


Can I Be Him

by runawayminds



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 08:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15384660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawayminds/pseuds/runawayminds
Summary: "Can I be the guy who gets to take you to dinner on a Friday night? Can I be the one who gets to hold your hand as we walk down the street, and open the door for you. Can I be the guy who gets to see that smile? Because, Felicity, I wanna be that guy. I wanna be the one that gets to treat you the way you deserve.”





	Can I Be Him

 

* * *

Life, it's said, is what happens to us while we are busy making other plans.

For Felicity, those plans involved her two favorite things. One skinny vanilla latte and a blueberry scone. Both of which were in her hand when fate threw her a curveball. Namely, _him._

It was the perfect spot really, in the whole entire coffeeshop.

The tiny two person round table was tucked into the corner, all by itself between the bar and the front window, complete with comfy armchairs and an outlet on the wall. She'd found it on her very first visit to Jitters, three years ago, and had sat there every time since. Until now, apparently.

Because today that perfect little spot was occupied. By the most handsome guy _ever_.

It took her a moment to realize who it was that had stolen her spot, and where she'd seen him before.

_The first time, four months ago, when he'd been in line in front of her. She'd noticed how he'd towered over her. The nervous tick he had, rubbing his thumb and index finger together as he stood waiting. The huskiness of his voice as he thanked Iris for his coffee._

_The second time, a couple weeks later, when he'd held the door for her as he was leaving and she was walking in. The small smile that he gave her as she passed, when she realized just how blue his eyes were._

_The final time, just about a month ago, when she'd sat in this very spot working on the coding project that was due that week for work, her fingers racing across the keyboard when she felt as if she were being watched. Only to look up and see him, eyes connected to hers as he walked out the door. (And Iris behind the counter, nodding her head, eyes wide, as if encouraging Felicity to_ do _something. Had her friend met her?!)_

She's about three seconds from making a run for it (as quickly as her 4 inch Jimmy Choo’s would allow, anyway…) when she realizes that he's looking at her now too. _Oops._

"Hey. Hi. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to just stand here and stare you down. It's just that this is my table. I mean…not _my_ table, my table. It's just the table that I've always sat at. Because, to be honest, it's the best one in here. Not only is it super comfy - and has a ton of outlets by it - but it's a great spot to people watch too. Especially when I need something to do besides look at my computer screen. Not that you care. About any of that. Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You have no idea who I am and here I am babbling, and yeah, ok. Shutting up now." She's not sure if it's possible, but Felicity thinks she just might be fire engine red, because when her hand flies to the runaway train she calls her mouth, she's pretty sure her skin is on fire. _Epic babbles are not the way to start with guys this gorgeous._

_Most people have this thing called a brain-to-mouth filter. Maybe you should find yours._

She's not quite sure why, but the smile that appears on his face when she finally looks at him again makes her want to run even more. "I don't know, I think your lack of a brain-to-mouth filter is pretty cute. And thank you, for calling me gorgeous."

_And yeah… this is what mortification feels like. Because, really, did she have to say_ all _of that out loud?! Or, you know, any of it._

She's just about to apologize again and make a run for it when he's suddenly standing up and holding his hand out. "Would you like to join me? It's only fair, since I've stolen your spot."

She thinks the grin he's still shooting her might be short-circuiting her brain, because she doesn't do anything except stand there, staring at his hand, "I'm sorry, but you don't even know me! What if I'm crazy? Or a serial killer? And all of this was just to get close to you so that I can take you back to my serial killer lair and oh my god, I am so sorry again…"

Somewhere in between apologizing _again_ and figuring out the best way to escape, Felicity realizes one very mind-boggling thing. He's saying _her name._

"Felicity. Your name is Felicity, and you're here at least once a week. You always order a skinny vanilla latte, and a blueberry scone or a muffin if you're hungry. You're friends with the barista, Iris. You're really good with computers, and even though you work with them you still haven't lost that love for them. You're a prolific reader, and your favorite genre is sci-fi/fantasy, and even though you're a self-professed techie you think nothing beats the smell and the feel of a book."

If you asked her later, Felicity wouldn't be able to tell you how long she stood there, staring at this man. She was pretty sure she was gaping, though.

In reality, she only stands there a few seconds before she makes a decision. She sits down. _(And really, that's where her life makes a quick right turn and everything she thought she knew, well it's all a little different now.)_

In retrospect, Felicity is thankful he's stolen her spot - forcing her to sit with her back to the coffeeshop, because she's 99% sure Iris is staring them down, watching every move the two of them make. _(Her suspicions are confirmed fifteen minutes later when she turns to grab her tablet from her purse that hangs on the corner of her chair. Because her friend is perched on the corner of the counter, the biggest grin ever on her face, sending her two thumbs up, across the coffeeshop.)_

"You're very observant…"

"Oliver. My name's Oliver." He's offering his hand to her, and she's taking it before she processes the movement. It's cliché, but she's pretty sure static discharges the moment their hands meet, and the world kind of disappears around them. That saying about two people disappearing into their own little bubble? Yep. It’s a thing that _actually_ happens.

“I’ve spent the last four months watching you sit at this table and disappear into your own little world. Whether you were getting lost in a book you were reading, or you spent the entire afternoon lost in something you were doing on your laptop, you never failed to hold my attention.”

“It was only my second time coming here, but I’d noticed you the last time. You’d been behind me in line, lost in thought. I turned around after paying for my drink and there you were…and then you smiled at me. It was just this little half-smile but it made me smile, for the first time in a long while, I genuinely smiled. You walked into the room and, in that moment, you stole my heart Felicity. There was just something about you.”

For some reason, the word _adorable_ pops into her head. Maybe it’s because she thinks he might be blushing, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t stopped fidgeting with his hands since he sat down.

“Then one day, about a month after I’d first seen you here, you’d taken over the whole corner. There were two laptops set up on the table, cords going every direction, and you were sitting at the bar with another laptop. I remember that Jitters was packed - there wasn't a table open anywhere. So I sat down on the one stool that was left, drank my coffee, and tried my very best not to watch your every move.”

“I’d barely been there ten minutes when you walked up to the counter, you were standing three feet away and I was just about to introduce myself when Iris walked over. I remember feeling like I’d been gut punched - you were chatting with Iris about a date you’d been on a day or two before - until you told her _horrible_ he was. And the first thing that popped into my head after I heard you say that was _‘Can I be him?’._ Can I be the guy who gets to take you to dinner on a Friday night? Can I be the one who gets to hold your hand as we walk down the street, and open the door for you. Can I be the guy who gets to see that smile? Because, Felicity, I wanna be that guy. I wanna be the one that gets to treat you the way you deserve.”

She’s not quite sure what happens next. It’s almost like an out of body experience, because one second she feels like time has stopped, and the next she’s smiling at the most beautiful man she’s ever seen and nodding.

“Yes?” he grins, and something inside of her slips into place. Because Oliver makes her happy. Somehow, in the thirty minutes they’ve spent talking, and the almost four months of stolen glances, she’s come to realize that he’s _special_. And she wants to know everything she can about him.

“Maybe we can start with that walk? Because I kind of think I’d like to know everything about you, Oliver.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this one. It's been floating around in my WIP folder every since I first heard James Arthur's song "Can I Be Him" and I finally sat down and finished it. Look for a possible second chapter with Oliver's POV, at some point. (possibly.)


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